


Baby Bottle Grenades

by getyouwhateverthepayne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Drabble, M/M, Mindless Fluff, gemmas a baby??, ok, theyre like six in my mind and baBY 1D IS THE CUTEST, well this isnt about a snow day, yay for snow days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:06:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getyouwhateverthepayne/pseuds/getyouwhateverthepayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Harry have collectively decided that Gemma's bedroom is #1 Battleground, and they're at war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Bottle Grenades

**Author's Note:**

> Literally I really need to start doing my homework
> 
> Is this even long enough to call a drabble???? (Edit: I might also turn this into third person bc it's bothering me that these six year old sound so advanced lolol)

"Stun gun! Stand down!" You aim your index fingers at me, your hands clasped tightly around an invisible weapon. "I said stand down!"

Slowly, I raise my arms in defeat. You smile in victory and drop your stun gun a fraction of an inch, and that is your greatest mistake.

I dodge quickly behind the rocking chair, tumbling and rolling into your sister's changing station, and get back into position. "You're outmanned, General!" I shout back, poking my fingers through the rails and peering suspiciously at what I can see of your legs. "I've got backup coming. You're surrounded!"

Then I see your legs jump and spin around as you jump onto your sister's bed and nearly somersault behind it. A hand comes flying out over the edge of the safety rail, and I hear your voice.

"You fell right into my trap, Sergeant Horan! Behind you those baby powder bombs will explode if you move a muscle. Come out with your hands up."

"Never!" I yell, rolling head over heels away from the danger and jumping up. "You're forgetting one thing, General."

"And what's that?" you laugh, pretending to lock and load your Charlie's Angels style gun as you stand up to face me. It's the only spy stance you know. It fits. "You've got nothing on me. I called your bluff; you've got no reinforcements."

Smug, I take in a deep breath. I watch as your expression slowly changes to pure horror once you know my plan. "Mrs.-!" Before I can finish, you've covered the distance between us and your hand is on my mouth.

"No!" you whisper, your big green eyes on mine. "I'll be dead!"

I look around at the mess surrounding us, and I agree. There's a diaper hanging from the ceiling fan, a baby bottle grenade on top of the curtains. Pulling your small hand off my mouth, I look up at you, my blonde hair falling into my eyes, and set my face into determination. "Swear that I win this round."

"What! No way, you totally cheated-!"

"Then I'm calling for the Mothership!" That's what we always call her, especially in dire situations like these.

"You don't want to do that!"

"And why not?" I challenge, putting a hand on my invisible holster.

"I'll -- kiss you!" Both of us giggle. Quickly, I regain my composure.

"General Styles, I demand your word. I win this round."

"But-!"

_"General Styles?"_

"Fine," you grumble, moving back and pulling your Ninja Turtles sleep shirt back into position. "But I want a rematch once we clean this up."


End file.
